(no subject)
you're striving. but for what? breath. space. attention. passion. daylight. warmth. and again, for what? to turn around in the morning and do it all over again? to lay the same ground rules, pave the same roads, attempt to patch the same hole you patched the day before?
does it ever fucking end? does it ever just.. get easier to breathe? is there ever a point when you're able to go a whole day without looking over your shoulder, swearing up and down that something is after you?
all i want is to be happy and every single time it is shot to fucking shit because the only person anyone ever cares about is their self. i call to talk to you and you sit there, silent. just fucking TALK to me, please, because i am locked inside of this house and my head ALL. DAY. LONG. completely fucking wholeheartedly alone.
i can't fucking stand it anymore. i need out. i need air. i need to fucking breathe. i can't go anywhere. i can't see anyone.
i'm going fucking crazy and i keep reaching and reaching and reaching for something to pull me back to the surface and every time i just.. come back empty handed.
no one cares about your problems because everyone has problems of their own.. such a simple little thing that takes years to learn.
so much stress that i don't even understand it. hell, i barely even acknowledge it anymore. what's the point? everything will always roll right off of your back, so fuck it.. why should i care about anything if you won't care about it with me?
for once in my life, i want to talk. i want to talk so bad that i will scream over the sound of a jet engine just to be heard. i want to be heard so badly that i will pay someone to listen. i want someone to listen so badly. and i want that person to be you.. so, so badly.
with every day, i grow weaker. my resolve has crumbled.
you win....
you win....
you win.
does it ever fucking end? does it ever just.. get easier to breathe? is there ever a point when you're able to go a whole day without looking over your shoulder, swearing up and down that something is after you?
all i want is to be happy and every single time it is shot to fucking shit because the only person anyone ever cares about is their self. i call to talk to you and you sit there, silent. just fucking TALK to me, please, because i am locked inside of this house and my head ALL. DAY. LONG. completely fucking wholeheartedly alone.
i can't fucking stand it anymore. i need out. i need air. i need to fucking breathe. i can't go anywhere. i can't see anyone.
i'm going fucking crazy and i keep reaching and reaching and reaching for something to pull me back to the surface and every time i just.. come back empty handed.
no one cares about your problems because everyone has problems of their own.. such a simple little thing that takes years to learn.
so much stress that i don't even understand it. hell, i barely even acknowledge it anymore. what's the point? everything will always roll right off of your back, so fuck it.. why should i care about anything if you won't care about it with me?
for once in my life, i want to talk. i want to talk so bad that i will scream over the sound of a jet engine just to be heard. i want to be heard so badly that i will pay someone to listen. i want someone to listen so badly. and i want that person to be you.. so, so badly.
with every day, i grow weaker. my resolve has crumbled.
you win....
you win....
you win.